“It’s complicated,” Aeëtes admitted, running a hand through his hair, his expression turning sheepish. Hermes only smiled wider.
“I would assume so. Trust me, you’ll get no competition from me in that department. Hecate is…”
“I won’t hear a bad word about her, messenger,” Aeëtes snapped, his mood turning foul again as he misread Hermes’s tone. Which, of course, set Hermes off in another round of boisterous laughter.
“Oh, gods above and below! You are really gone for her, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never seen him like this,” Pelias tossed in with a grin, earning himself a glare from Aeëtes.
“Does she know how you feel?” Hermes pushed, moving closer to Aeëtes and Pelias, as if they were about to gossip around an amphora of wine.
“I think so.” Aeëtes shrugged, abandoning any discernment and sighing deeply. “I didn’t want to tell her outright. It would spook her.”
Hermes only nodded, as if this was a dreadfully serious topic. “That was wise of you. It most certainly would’ve.” Aeëtes and Pelias waited, but Hermes didn’t elaborate.
“I’ll take whatever I can get.” Aeëtes’s voice was wistful as his eyes began to scan the deck for Hecate, perpetually eager to have her in his sights. Hermes noticed this subtle action and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Aeëtes was ready to give his life for Hecate if it was required of him. He nodded in a quiet approval, appraising him.
“Walk with me, Aeëtes,” Hermes said gently, motioning for them to move to the other side of the deck. He turned to Pelias with a nod. “It’s been an honor, sailor. You make a swift god proud with your command of the seas.”
Pelias fumbled and gave Hermes a quick bow, unsettled by the praise, before he ran off to find something to attend to. He moved as if he was eager to prove himself worth of an immortal’s compliment.
Aeëtes followed Hermes to the other end of the long ship, joining him at the railing as they both looked out over the water. Aeëtes’s eyes still scanned the deck for Hecate. He only relaxed when he found her chatting aimlessly with the navigator at the opposite end.
“Listen,” Hermes said gently in a tone that Aeëtes hadn’t heard him use before. “I think you would be good for her.” Aeëtes felt his heart expand so quickly at Hermes’s approval, he thought it might kill him. “Be sure in your affections if you are to pursue her. You will be denied more than once in your course, but if you hold true…”
Hermes trailed off, as he, too, looked at Hecate’s distant form. He smiled and let out a long sigh before turning back to Aeëtes.
“You will be denied more than once. Many a man, immortal or not, cannot face that kind of rejection. You must be surer of your love for her than of anything you’ve ever known if you are to prove it.”
“For Hecate… For her, I would face it a million times over. I’d cross the rivers of Hades and back if that was what she demanded,” Aeëtes interjected, his voice tinged with desperation, turning away to look out over the sea. Hermes nodded.
“You just might have to, Aeëtes… You just might have to,” Hermes spoke in such a foreboding way that Aeëtes turned to ask him to clarify.
The god was gone.
20
Hecate wasn’t bothered by Hermes’s abrupt disappearance when Aeëtes told her.
“It’s pretty common amongst immortals,” she commented with a wave of her hand. “We can’t be expected to constantly be giving formal hellos and goodbyes.”
Aeëtes felt the sharp sting of rejection, embarrassed by the notion of what the immortals did and didn’t do. It sent a surge of insecurity through him, that he was half of a man and half an immortal. His naïveté when it came to the way of the gods caused him to flush around Hecate more than anything. Well, almost more than anything.
They were standing together at the bow of the ship, watching other ships pass them in the distance. Hecate didn’t notice the slightest dip in Aeëtes’s behavior. It had turned out to be a clear day, the sun shining brightly down on the water without a cloud in the sky. Pelias had resumed his typical duties with the crew, and Aeëtes had sought out Hecate as soon as Hermes had disappeared. The messenger god’s words were still ringing in Aeëtes’s ears, wondering what Hermes meant when he said his affections would be tested.
When he looked at the goddess, however, relaxed against the railing and her hair loose in the wind, he realized that there was nothing he wouldn’t withstand for her. Even his own insecurities, which continued to echo in his brain that he could never be good enough for a woman like Hecate.
The same tune looped endlessly in Hecate’s mind, too, as she tripped over the remnants of old wounds. She chewed on her lip absentmindedly as they both looked out at the water, the ship moving seamlessly through the waves. Aeëtes wore his heart on his sleeve for Hecate, willing to give her everything and afraid that it wasn’t enough. She kept her heart hardened, afraid to accept anything he had to give her—not because it wasn’t enough, but because it was too much. It would drown her, rip apart her battlements, and set her free.
Hecate told herself that Aeëtes would always choose his freedom. And her soul hadn’t been set free in a long, long time.
“There we are,” Hecate spoke in a singsong, pointing to a group of buildings along a not-so-distant skyline. “Byzantium.”
“Byzantium?” Aeëtes nearly shouted, half-leaning over the ship to get a better look. “It should take us days more to get to Byzantium. Weeks, even, depending on the weather. How did we get here intwodays?” He turned to look at the goddess, who had a small grin on her face.
“I can’t use my powers without Hera finding us, but it seems we may have had a little bit of assistance.”
“From whom?” Aeëtes’s brow furrowed as he thought of any other god who might be clamoring for Hecate’s good graces.
